


double-edged

by pistolgrip



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: Six learns how to handle Siete's sword.
Relationships: Siete | Seofon/Six | Seox (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	double-edged

**Author's Note:**

>   
> look at him.  
> (sorry for all the post-upload edits! guess there's a reason i'm usually a lot more meticulous with editing than i have for the past few uploads.)

"Hey, Six."

Siete leans against the doorway of the practice room, waving a sword at him with a smile that only means trouble. Before Six can let out a sigh, Siete throws the blade at him without warning, hilt-first, intending for Six to catch.

He snatches it out of the air with his left hand, letting his sigh out now that Siete walks into the practice room to face him with a hand on his own sword. "That one's yours for the mission," Siete says, stopping in front of Six and rolling his neck before entering a fighting stance. "En garde. Let's see how quickly you can get the hang of swordfighting before our lives depend on it."

He winks. Under his mask, Six's mouth thins into a tight line as he grits out another sigh, feeling his pulse quicken. "You're not insinuating that holding a sword is difficult, surely." He changes his grip on the sword, holding it at shoulder height and training its point on Siete's head. His right hand comes up to trace the blade, fingertips grazing against the steel.

He takes a deep breath to charge forward, but Siete bursts out into laughter, doubling over and letting his battle-ready stance fall apart. Six stands steady, but he feels heat rise to his face and douse his entire body in embarrassed flames. He could carry on with their spar and charge while Siete's off guard, but then Siete looks up at him with a grin that stops that thought in its tracks.

There's no trace of mockery—only genuine amusement. He's not entirely laughing at Six, but Six just doesn't know how to laugh with him. It's this same smile that Six has been seeing too much lately, the one that freezes him in his tracks with the expectation of finding amusement in these moments.

"Six, we're swordfighting."

"We aren't," Six grumbles, holding his stance. "You're laughing instead of engaging with me."

"We—specifically, you—are fighting with swords. You look cool, and it might be practical for fist-fighting or ostentatious tournaments, but walk into a battlefield like that and someone's gonna disarm you in two seconds."

"Try me."

Siete's amused, laughing eyes sharpen. As Six jumps back, Siete launches at him, parrying his clumsy swing and knocking the blade from his hand. It clatters to the ground, far from Six's reach.

He looks back to Siete, who raises his eyebrows with a smirk. Six tightens his hands into fists and grits out yet another sigh when Siete shrugs.

"Told you," he sings before walking over to the sword. "As glad as I am that this already feels like an extension of your hands, it'll be a bit different."

"It's hardly that comfortable," Six grumbles, but the protests die as Siete sidles up beside him, putting the hilt back into his left palm. 

"For starters," Siete drawls with a grin, "this sword is two-handed."

Siete's gloved hand brushes against the skin of Six's wrist. He hopes Siete can't feel his pulse. "What, my hand and yours?"

The air in the room freezes, and then Siete chuckles again—just as explosive at the first time with how close he is to Six's ear. If Six twitches them, he would feel Siete's lips, and that enough is to get him to lean away. "No, your other hand."

Still holding onto Six's left hand, Siete reaches around to take his right wrist, and now he's too close, only a scant few layers separating Six's back from Siete's warmth, pressing against him as he closes both hands around the hilt of the sword and pointing it forward toward an invisible enemy.

Six forgets how to breathe—and then Siete lets go of one of his hands, and he takes the opportunity to elbow Siete in the gut.

Siete's forehead knocks against the back of Six's head. He lets out a groan as he stumbles backwards, and Six whips around, holding the sword as he's supposed to, nudging the tip of his sword under Siete's chin as he's wheezing and tilting it up. "Don't touch me," he grits through his teeth. It's a miracle he doesn't stutter.

The grin that comes across Siete's face is full of mischief. Instead of freezing Six in his tracks, this is the smile that makes him want to run in Siete's direction with his fists raised until he does something he regrets. Siete raises a hand and points to his own chin. "You sure? You look very red under there. Allergic reaction? Or are you blushing—"

Six pokes the sword forward, tilting his head down and pulling his collar up to hide any more of his exposed skin. "Stand and fight me before I regret agreeing to go with you for this mission."

"Ah, but you're already regretting it."

He takes the sword away long enough to let Siete stand again, and as Siete turns his impish grin on him while drawing his sword, Six says—more to himself than to Siete—"With you, there is no shortage of things I regret."

**Author's Note:**

> edit [march 9, 2020]: thank you again billie/@astrallevin for goign feral and **[drawing something for this bad boy](https://twitter.com/astrallevin/status/1237112324680560643)**... fellas is it gay to almost hold hands on a sword
> 
> for the record i do think siete would give six a sword that he could hold with one hand, but for the sake of horny…  
> something quick and silly!


End file.
